


you can have it all

by annejumps



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Deepthroating, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, M/M, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: It’s like the floodgates have opened and Richie is happily being carried away on the swells of fate.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	you can have it all

Eddie is absolutely determined to learn to deepthroat, now that he has someone to practice shit he saw in porn with. And he’s determined to learn it on Richie’s cock.

“I appreciate your effort and all,” Richie says, or rather manages to choke out, “but you really don’t have to do that. Honestly, I’m good. This is more than I literally ever dreamed would even happen to me,” he said, gesturing down at the general Eddie situation kneeling in front of him: face flushed, lips red, an almost maniacal look in his nearly black eyes. “I’m just glad you’re alive and somewhere in the general vicinity of my dick. You don’t have to….” He swallows, thinking about it—whew, what a fucking concept!—as a shiver goes through him. “You don’t have to, like, _deepthroat_ me, dude.”

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Eddie mutters, glaring, brows as black as Woolly Bear caterpillars when it’s going to be a hard winter.

“All right, then,” Richie says, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. Have at it. It’s all yours.” He gestures at his general downstairs area, like Eddie needed the clarification.

It’s too late now, of course; he’s already come. But. There are _plans_ , he can tell from the look on Eddie’s face, the grim line of his mouth, which still has a little bit of come visible on it, oh God.

Richie gets more blowjobs after he gets Eddie out of the sewers than he had in the rest of his life combined, and it’s all worth it, really. 

It’s almost adorable. God, yes, Eddie tries, and gags a little, and Richie’s completely consumed by the image of a pink-faced frowning Eddie, with his cheeks hollowing out and visible sweat on his temples as he tries, frustrated noises and all, to get Richie’s entire dick down his throat. He’s blinking in fury as he works his mouth over Richie’s cock, once he’s evidently decided it’s not quite going to work and he’s got to just blow him like a normal perfectly adequate hot boyfriend who just faced a near-death experience with him. It happens like that a few times and Richie revels in it. 

They haven’t really had the time or energy to have a lot of sex yet, although God knows they’ve had the will: they dry-humped on the couch like the teenagers they never quite were together the first night they had the chance, and then there was the hilariously termed (in Richie’s opinion) mutual masturbation, and handjobs, and Richie blew Eddie and correctly assumed his whispered “Oh my Gods” were indications that Eddie was going to do this too. And that’s why Richie is in heaven right now, being repaid tenfold for years of suffering, he assumes.

Eddie will stop him in the hall of the temporary apartment they’ve commandeered while they figure post–intergalactic force of evil shit out, shove him against the wall, get into his jeans, kneel down, and get his dick in his mouth, and Richie Tozier, devout atheist, utters a little prayer of gratitude every time. He’ll do it in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the bedroom they decided they might as well share, after he pushes Richie to sit on the bed. It’s like the floodgates have opened and Richie is happily being carried away on the swells of fate. He honestly tries his best to get his mouth on Eddie in return, God does he ever, but Eddie can sometimes get combative about wanting his practice time, smacking Richie aside and making him wait his turn until Eddie has attained some measure of progress.

“How can you tell when you’re successful?” he wonders aloud one day, amazed he can even speak, and Eddie gives him a _look_. “Right, stupid question,” he quickly agrees.

He’s getting used to the feeling of Eddie’s palate against the head of his cock, of letting himself fuck it gently as Eddie tries to open his throat; he’s used to the sound of Eddie trying to breathe around him, _Jesus fucking Christ_. One night Eddie grabs the backs of his thighs and makes _mmph mmph_ noises of encouragement, throat opening, and with Eddie’s nasal breaths ringing in his ears Richie lets himself fuck Eddie’s throat, watching how red he gets, the veins standing out on his forehead as he holds himself onto Richie’s dick like God himself could not separate him from it. 

Richie comes down Eddie’s throat, as Eddie digs his fingers into his thighs. Richie imagines bruises there later.

Gasping, Eddie pulls off, looking like… like Richie’s been fucking his face, a string of saliva-slash-come going from Richie’s very red and slick spent dick to Eddie’s lips until he wipes it away, panting, his eyes alight with triumph.

“Fuck yes, I did it,” he says, punching the air. “I fucking knew I could do it.”

“You sure did, babe. I knew you had it in you. Or… I had it in you. Something. Pretend that was a joke,” Richie manages to say, before sinking clumsily to the floor and getting his hand in Eddie’s pants, and his mouth on his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> So [Liz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizifer/pseuds/lizifer) said "picture Eddie being *super determined* to learn to deep throat" and I was off to the races. Short because I wanted to get it down in 30 minutes. Title courtesy Yo La Tengo.


End file.
